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Short Inspirational, Motivational Poems About Life For Women

December 3, 2017 by admin Leave a Comment

Short Inspirational, Motivational Poems About Life For Women

1) Poem – That A Day Shall Pass

May be I asked for it

But when?

Not when I was awake

Never.. in my wildest dreams.

But what do I claim for
I made no promises
Had left no hope
For I so had never thought

That..

A day shall rise

And a night would fall

That a possibility existed

That a moment would pass

When you’d think of someone else

And not me…

2) Poem – Chameleon

I pick up the colors
And paint my soul.
I close my eyes to look at what they want me to see.
I am a chameleon;
I change to survive.
I change to be me.

3) Poem – I Am Not Alone Now

I am not alone now,
Your absence lives in me;
like an old wine, your absence lives in me;
a silence that still speaks;
a tear that still smiles;
an unending melody of an unheard music;
an ending,
still to be started…

4) Poem – The Incorrigible Me

I think usually straight,
I lie when cornered,
I like to stand up,
For justice and for honor,
But not always does it stick,
For when the subject is me,
I become weak…

I have phases of songs,
Which dines on my time,
Nestles on my lips,
And the tune becomes mine,
To be hummed with the stars,
And with sunshine

I usually like to be loved,
And love to be worshiped,
Be it the tender heart of my child,
Or the ones of all my friendships,
Be it the loving gaze of my mother
Or the avid arms of a lover,
I love, I love, I do.
When I am the center for others.

Some years winters are cold n loneliness frigid,
I find d shackles of sane normalcy rigid,
Sacrifices empty, decisions all wrong,
Some moments precious, all lost, all gone,
I m not sure of nothing no more,
All ideals all convictions are distant folklores,
Same follies, same flaws,
Same fears same glee
Oh how I cannot, cannot but  avoid,
Being the incorrigible me!

5) Poem – Of Strange Beginnings And Ends

It starts.
He looks at me,
And I try to smile.
He smiles back.
He thinks of what else to do,
And finds nothing.
He smiles again;
It ends.

Memories…
You look at me,

And I try not to smile.
You smile back.
You think of what not to do,
And find something.
You smile again;
It starts.

6) Poem – Secrets

You promised
To embrace my naked scars
To erase my forbidden lines
And laugh off my gravest sins
You were my savior
My hero

But all it took was
A casual evening
And my life was all over
Your coffee table

And how I wished
This trust
would’ve passed the test of time

Now all that I am
Left with
Are your frozen whispers
And the touch
Of your
Last embrace.

7) Poem – Mountains Of Nothing

The moon is redeemed
in another sky
this aeon,too short for redemption

impregnated with illicit desires
the oceans a fugitive
of the land

the house is naked
windows no longer open
on the outside

the heart of charcoal
is sooted with goldust

it beats no more
it rattles

all this is too insignificant
to excite ’em
the world is bored

war is cheap.

Filed Under: Poems Tagged With: absence, alone, colors, cool, dreams, encouragement, encouraging, english, friendship, good, heart, honor, Incorrigible, loneliness, love, lover, melody, missing you, modern, mother, music., poetry, promise, rhyming, rise, secrets, simple, smile, soul, strength, Sunshine, thought, uplifting, whispers, winters

Poems – Pink Feathers Of The Dawn, Little Things, One day

November 5, 2017 by admin Leave a Comment

Poems - Pink Feathers Of The Dawn, Little Things, One day

Poem: Pink Feathers Of The Dawn

The pink feathers of the early dawn,
creeping up stealthily to sleeping forms,
entering the ken through shadows of dreams,
cheating dark visions through rays of hope

Pink feathers, the phoenix, of the dying dark,
pink feathers slowly etching the new days mark,
giving more heart to the fires of hope,
lighting meager joys with specks and sparks

Pink feathers, oh! pink feathers how quietly you grow,
among blue bodies, through green sows,
beneath creamy lids of the eyes of beings,
alighting the dark onto warm glowing wings

Slow and sluggish, as the feathers get lost,
the pink of its hue, growing wise and hot,
wanton promises of dark to flowering day,
to be born again, the aurora fades away!

Poem: Little Things

Everything’s just fine
It’s a Saturday morning
Everyone’s back to work

Havin’ a cup o’ tea
Newspaper in my hands
Birds chirping and all

But there’s an emptiness
In my mind
Hollow …..the air I take in
Echo in my walls

It seems just fine
I am set to work
My fingers moving
Diligently

But there’s a mist in my room
That no one else
Seems to notice

I checked my ttd* list
I have a long day to plan
So much to do

But why do I ?
Feel like a rewind
Going back into my quilt
And wake  up last night

It feels like
A wind; stuck in a tree
A lump; in my throat

Its like I missed
A heartbeat
For we did not talk
Last night.

little things..

Poem: One day

You see me going away….
Farther every moment
Its not me ,
But the earth which is moving
Only to bring me back to you, again

One day…….

You would want to tell me things
But I wouldn’t be around
Only to listen to them as stories
On a long afternoon, once the
Winds carry me home, again

One day………..

You would think of me
And not find me by your side
Let your thoughts fly,then
So that I can trace my way back
traveling in your thoughts
to you ..again

One day….

You will see the glory of the
Mountains
and the depths of the sea
I will not be there holding your hands
But my hands would be held
In prayer

One day…

So that when you come back
You come back to me
Because then it will be your choice
Not mine
For once
I will be at your dispense

One day…

You can treat me right
By not even considering me
Worthy of recognition
For all my notorious escapades
Into never lands

One day…

For even then you’d know
That if you don’t let me in
I will lie at your doorstep
Till I die
And if you do
I’ll find the first open window
And fly away…

Filed Under: Poems Tagged With: alone, emotional, Emotions, emptiness, escapade, feelings, female, Girl, girls, heart, heartbeat, hollow, hope, joy, loneliness, lonely, missing, missing you, Mountains, poems for her, poet, poetry, promises, prose, recognition, sea, sparks, think, thinking, Thoughts, verse, verses, woman, Women

Short Story About A Sixteen Year Old Girl: Deafening Silence

August 14, 2017 by admin Leave a Comment

Short Story About A Sixteen Year Old Girl Deafening Silence

A sixteen year old girl sits besides the window of her room, staring at the raindrops falling upon the sill; her long flowing brown hair covering her blue shiny eyes clouded by thick drops of endless tears. Her pretty pink lips, totally in contrast with the pale face that has lost its usual rosiness, are crying out the word “Please..”  into her mobile phone. The voice at the other end felt to be rather cruel, or so she felt at that instant, almost unaffected by the glaring pain that this girl’s heart was so full of. The boy hung up. With trembling hands, she put down the phone, still not being able to take what the caller had just said. His words had been too much for her to bear, for she loved the boy selflessly. And to part with him was to lose a part of her own self.

She was all alone. Not that she didn’t have any friends- her contact list was three hundred and fifty nine contacts strong- just that she couldn’t muster the courage to speak, so in shock she was.

Her heart was pounding, her hands were sweaty, and her face wet. She looked around the room, and she saw his bright picture on the open laptop in the otherwise dark ambience, smiling at her. It was taken at a time when all had been well. At a time when she felt she was complete. When she was loved. When the guy’s heart had none other’s but her name emblazoned on it. When the world seemed a better place to live. When the fragrance of the flowers outside her window filled her mind with blissful joy. When the rain was just another occasion to rejoice.  Not anymore.

All had been lost. All at once. Her heart pleaded. And screamed. She collected all her courage and questioned him, asked him why she had been subjected to this unfairness. All she got back was silence. A silence that cut through her very ribs.  The pain that made her numb for a split second; that second when everything inside her became calm and quiet. A moment of utter clarity. A second of self judgment. She had been wronged. She did not deserve that. She had been a faithful lover. An obedient daughter. A loving friend. A caring sibling. A hard working student. She had been too good all through to deserve it. She wanted an answer. She needed an answer. All she received was silence. And a barely audible note of apology.

Love is time, love is understanding, love is connection. She was told. Now he had this comfort with some other friend, this deepness he shared with some other girl. Love is about evolving. And letting go. Love is making the other person smile. She understood love. She appreciated love. She decided to let go. It was the pain that she couldn’t part with. It was the hollowness, the emptiness that had crawled inside her that refused to go even after years. She believed that you can love once, and she had had her share. She treasured and cherished the loving moments they had shared, the sweet words they had spoken, the occasional glances at school that they had exchanged. She held them close to her heart.

People survive. So will she. You never can let go off the pain. Only one day you learn to carry that pain along effortlessly.

Filed Under: Short Stories Tagged With: alone, ambience, daughter, Deafening Silence, faithful, Friends, Girl, love, pain, raindrops, self judgment, Short Story, sibling, Sixteen Year Old, student

Representation Of Voices: Thoughts On Love, Life And Karma

May 17, 2017 by admin Leave a Comment

Representation Of Voices Thoughts On Love, Life And Karma

When do we start valuing things? Only when they’re gone? But, what if, they aren’t supposed to not be there? How do we then realize their value? Or do we realize it at all?

When do we start realizing things? When we come across their existence too many times? Or too little? Do we need a catalyst for the thinking process to tick off? Or should there be absolutely nothing in the head for us to think things through?

When do we start having a clear head? Is it when we have nothing to do? Or when we have so much on our minds that a deliberate effort needs to be made to wipe the slate clean?

Has your heart ever raced so fast that your breath stops? Have your insides shivered so much that you lose all sense of speech? Has your head swirled so dangerously that you fall to the floor? Has your mouth been so dry that your throat begins to ache? Have your eyes cried themselves dry?

What spawns such supernatural (for lack of a better word) bodily responses? Is it us or is it the situations we are merely a character of? Who designs these situations? Our own actions or the actions of others? Do we even have a role to play in our own life? I am of the school of thought that says we are not. That even an attempt to break away from what one may ascribe as destiny, to me, is an orchestrated attempt of destiny itself.

I am destined to fall in love. So I shan’t come close to a soul. But what if I am destined to not come close to a soul? Am I then delivering the steps of my destiny or breaking from its shackles?

But what might be bounding for me – might be liberating for someone else. Then, why is it binding for me at all? Why can I not be the boss of what happens in my life? It is MY life after all. Or is it?

I can sit and ponder over how I will take charge of my life – and take it to a direction “I” want it to go. But, will it really? Where will I muster enough courage to pull it off. Black. Black. Black. It all looks so dark.

Friends. The thought itself brings such a warm feeling to the fore. But, why no face? I have plenty of friends. Ones that you meet at parties, to those whom you organize parties with, to those whom you meet day in and day out to those whose voices you listen to before turning in to those who know you like no one else ever can. But still no face. What does that mean? Are they mere phases? Mere bursts in my life? Then why do I attribute such great value to them currently?

And there I mentioned value. What a freaking carousel this is! Do I in actuality value them? Or am I that parasite who values the exchange from the host more than the host itself? Can I derive what I currently do from a separate set of people? Will it be wrong? Not morally. I couldn’t give a damn about morality. But, spiritually. Will I be able to sleep peacefully knowing I might’ve wronged. But is it really wrong?

You are born into this world alone. You are buried alone. Then what is the essence of having so many relationships in the middle? Why can we not be self-reliant? Is being anti-social actually a bad thing? Or is it a virtue above any other. The fact that one is better of by himself/herself. How many people can do that? Can even come close!? Does that mean, that the one with more friends is actually a weak person? Because, he/she is not satiated by just himself/herself. Or is the anti-social one depraved? For he writhes in such selfishness!

Often I hear self determined individuals say, “I decide what happens in my life. I may chose X today and do Y tomorrow. And, I will be happy with that!”

And then there’s this other set that apparently ‘lives for today!’ But does one really?! How many times have we not succumbed to temptation KNOWING it’s future ramifications? Is that really living in the present? What palpable measure constricts time? Who assumed such responsibility to define time to begin with? We might notionally regard time to be of cardinal importance. But, is this importance ascribed because it needs to be, or because we, in all measures realize its importance?

Self. Self. Self. That’s all that matters really. Others are just means to an end. An end none of us can see right now. Because, either we are the ones prescribing ourselves myopic vision correction to facilitate living in the present or the ones who are too busy in the future to realize what is going down right now! In this moment.

What must an engine go through a second after a burnout? Is it gloating in self-pride of pulling such magnificence off? Or is it impoverished to the core for having spent it all – in one go?

The metal is shivering. The wind is blowing cold. The grass cuts through. The sand smells foul. The sky eats everything in its reach. BLACK BLACK BLACK.

There is nothing around. We seek warmth from ourselves. Oh what a beautiful being. We rub our palms and experience comfort like no other. Blow into our cupped arms. And breathe a sigh of relief. We are so alone.

I need food. I need water. I need love. I need friendship. I need belongingness. I need a title. I need praise. I need a roof. I need my parents. I need slippers. I need a warm jacket. I need coffee. I need brownies. I need the television. I need ESPN. I need my iPod. I need confidence. I need something to stand by. I need someone to stand by me. I need maple syrup. I need butter chicken. I need books. I need movies. I need sad stories. I need peace. I need war. I need banners. I need art. I need order. I need anarchy. I need myself. I need skin. I need a neck. I need a touch. I need to be embraced. I need to be kissed. I need to be bitten. I need money. I need cigars. I need my Vodka.

Representational of so many voices. Not just mine. Yet there will be proud hands going up owing to the fact that they need coffee. That they need art. That they need butter chicken. That they need cigars. That they need peace. And there will be the nervous ones going up on the need for touch. The need for skin.

Just like you need your chocolate. Or your favorite boxers. Or your favorite lip balm. Or your favorite heels. Or your favorite beer.

As humans, we like to box things. Categorize them. Organize them in our head. Clinically speaking, stereotype them. But we fall prey to the demon of all demons; groupthink. The act of making decisions in such a way that individual creativity and individual responsibility is thwarted. When was the last time you took responsibility for something that went wrong? (Take your time!)

I say sorry to escape things – not to resolve them. I say sorry to avoid things. To continue with what was operating before. It’s safe you know. Saves me from the yelling. The arguing. Saves what existed before. Ah! What magic this world entails. 5 random letters stringed together to arrive at a concept more sacred than the bond of maternity itself. But, it’s interesting to think about it slightly. When I say sorry, I submit to the other person and/or the situation. In other words, I subordinate myself. Not too many people like subordination. They like to be on top. At their job. At home. In relationships. In fights. While making decisions. Everywhere. So, the one who gladly accepts the “lower position” is seen as the one who gave up. But is it really him who is the loser? Or is it the one who doesn’t have the ability to lower himself the real sucker? The one who cannot yield his pedestal because he is impotent, in that regard? The one who hath not muster enough courage, for he lacks it to begin with!

Which brings me to the last musing. Karma. But that needs some thought. I believe in Karma very strongly, but my faith in it has started to flounder. I guess everyone goes through this phase when their life seems to suck ass. I’d like to believe I am not there (yet!) – but where does karma fit into all of this? Are my actions of today in cognizance of what I might receive in future? Are my acts of charity and nobility in lieu for something supremely awesome in future? Do they then hold validity at all? Because their very purpose is defeated. They reek of selfishness through and through.

But then again, isn’t this life just about me? Who will die with me? I have to depart alone. So why think of anyone else? Fact is there isn’t anyone by your side. They’re by their own sides. Seeking some utility of you. Sick jerks. Not that you’re an angel. You’re caught in the ugly rat race yourself.

Welcome to Life!

Filed Under: Thoughts Tagged With: alone, destiny, Friends, human, Karma, life, love, realizing, relationships, Self, situation, social, soul, stereotype, thinking process, Thoughts, Voices

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